


A Birthday Is a Special Occasion

by Mandergee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:55:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Coulson is getting all busy with his new duties as Director, and May surprises him for his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Birthday Is a Special Occasion

**Author's Note:**

> Another short and sweet touch on Philinda. They seem to be what I'm good at, these short ones.

He'd come bare chested, plaid pajama bottoms and bare feet slapping against the carpeted floor as he burst into the cockpit with panting breaths. Middle of the night, her voice pulling him away from reports with a frantic whisper over the intercom- she'd known he would come quickly, though she hadn't quite imagined the stress of his new position would have brought him out of bed without putting clothes on. May had never seen him in nightwear- had barely seen him in civilian attire, though the recollections of undercover missions brought with them fond memories of knitted cardigans and, once, a faded band t-shirt reminiscent of Tony Stark. 

“What is it? HYDRA? What's the eme-” Her hand rose to stop him even as he stopped himself, eyes searching her face for the answer to his question before dropping to the rest of her. Looking her over, intently, in a way she couldn't ever remember him doing before. Skinsuits, black and glistening, had always been her attire of choice, and as much as she knew they'd complimented her...he'd never had that look on his face before.

“Happy birthday, Phil.”His expression remained neutral, impassive, even as she smoothed the front of her dress down with hands that trembled gently despite every ounce of control she put into keeping herself calm. 

“May...what is this?” For a moment he seemed so vulnerable, hair slightly tousled from she imagined were numerous lapses into sleep despite his best attempts against it. In all of their time together it had been she who had been the most vocally opposed to any surprises, any little celebrations of her own birth that she realized she'd never really asked his stance on the matter. “What are you-”

“It's your birthday, Phil. You needed someone to give you a break, and this _is_ that break.” Her hands needed something to do, something to steady them, and she reached to steady herself on the pilots seat. _Steady as she goes_ , she thought, _and keep her in the air_. It hadn't been easy to let her hair down, and she shook her head gently to let the black, silken strands slide over her bare shoulders like water. He might have laughed to know how much she'd fussed with it before leaving it alone. “You've been working too hard.”

“That's the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Maybe,” She took a step forward, hand still clutching her seat for support, and managed a smile. “But that doesn't change the fact that you are.” 

“I suppose I am.” They'd relaxed now, she realized, and in that moment she felt her need for support slip away. He wasn't upset, wasn't reacting badly to the fact that she'd feigned emergency to get him to the cockpit and away from the mountains of paperwork he sifted through so diligently. She'd never known someone as dedicated as Phillip Coulson, or as willing to sacrifice his own well being for a cause he believed in. For a family he believed in. “You didn't have to do this, Melinda.”

“Of course I didn't. You think I'd get myself into a dress for just anyone, Phil? I didn't even _bring_ any civilian clothes on this mission.” The truth of the matter had been that she'd only brought the one dress, strapless and solid navy- one she'd hoped to wear in a moment to herself. Sneak off the plane, maybe, get a drink at a bar and give herself a chance at being just _Melinda_ , without the 'Agent' or the 'May' being all that defined her. It was the only undercover she enjoyed, that chance at being herself, as rare as it was. The hope had slipped away over time, and as S.H.I.E.L.D had begun to regroup she'd realized the opportunity to wear it wasn't meant to be in some vain hope she would find a meaningless connection but that she might nurse an already meaningful one. “A birthday _is_ a special occasion. You're worth it.”

“I see.” They stood inches apart now, and as she felt his fingers slip through hers she realized he really _did_ see, his eyes taking her in with the same careful consideration he gave a special project- or someone he cared for immensely. “I didn't expect anything for it.”

“Well, that's good. Who said you're getting anything, anyw-” The touch of his lips against hers had her quiet, a smile ghosting over her own as he pulled her close, arm sliding carefully around her waist. It had been so long, longer than she could remember, since she'd had anyone touch her with such care. It hadn't been in the cards, this moment, and her eyes closed against the wave of emotions that crested up and over her so intensely she stumbled back. “Phil...”

“It's my birthday, Melinda. And I couldn't have asked for a better gift than time with a friend.” His smile was tender, soft, and his hand came from her waist to gently tuck hair behind her ear and away from her face. She'd forgotten how sweet he was, and how much she'd missed that from anyone. 

“I hope it was worth the interruption," Her eyes met his, sparkling, and he laughed softly.

“It's the one I'm going to remember, Melinda.” Pulling her close again, he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose before burying his face in her hair, breath warm on her neck. “I always will.” 


End file.
